


Indeed, darling

by orphan_account



Category: Jeeves & Wooster
Genre: Caught, Fluff, Humour, M/M, Pet Names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 08:38:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19081450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jeeves has started to refer to Bertie as his „darling“; unfortunately, he wasn’t aware of the Drones in the living-room.





	Indeed, darling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thesadchicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesadchicken/gifts).



> This is another little story written for a prompt over at the Give Satisfaction Kink Meme.  
> thesadchicken (whose work over at the community always cheers me up) seemed to like it, so although it was not written explicitly for her, I want to gift it to her and hope she enjoys it!

„Darling?“ it sounded through the hall into the living-room. It was the voice of my trusted man, Jeeves, whom you surely know from some of the other little stories I have told you so far. Certainly you’re wondering now, dear reader, why the term with which the aforementioned t.m. J. addressed the young master changed from the more whatsit-spirited „sir“ to this rather —intimate word?

Well well, this might be the result of a kiss I had, after maybe one or two b. and s.‘s too much with the birds at the Drones, planted onto the rather smashing set of lips my valet calls his own. And it might also be the result of some more kisses and other things, which I am too much of a gentleman to speak of now, that followed this first kiss that night.

To put it in a nutshell, my prince amongst valets, I say, my prince amongst all the birds that cluster our good old Britain, and this Wooster, B. had recently established an understanding which pleased both of us immensely. It was rather top notch, you see. Absolutely bee’s knees. Spiffing.  
And ever since Jeeves had found his way from my wardrobe over my heart into my bed, he’d started calling me „darling“ or, when we were doing some of the good old horizontal waltzing, „love“.

Knowing Jeeves and all his talk of the feudal spirit and whatnot, you’ll understand that this blew the onion out of the water at first. But he assured me that, to him, it seemed more appropriate to call me by these names instead of Bertram or Bertie. And really, even now he uses his „darlings“ at odd times in conversation, and I suspect that he just replaces his usual „sir“ with a term of endearment.

Not that I don’t like it, mind you. I am not ashamed to admit that, spending most of my youth as an orphan in relative’s houses, it is rather soothing for the y.m.‘s soul to be somebody’s darling, or love, or sweetheart.

When we’re in public though, Jeeves of course still calls me „sir“; but it sounds somewhat fond now, you know. As if it‘s a term of endearment itself.

Speaking of the public and relatives and stuff, didn’t I start writing this with the intention of telling you about some rummy business I recently experienced? Ah, yes, Jeeves was calling me „darling“ once more, or rather shouting it from the salle de bain where he had been bathing before starting to prepare dinner.  
And although the Wooster heart often starts to flutter a bit at hearing the pure cotton —or velvet?— voice of this marvel of a man, there and then it started to race as if it was the odds-on favourite at Ascot.

Because, unfortunately, during Jeeves’s abscence the doorbell had rung and when I had opened, half of the chaps from the club had swept in, demanding drinks and cigarettes before going to a show in the evening.  
So it was not only me who heard this Jeevesian display of affection, but also young Bingo, Tuppy Glossop, Barmy, Gussie Fink- Nottle and about six other birds. They were all looking rather baffled, I can tell you.

„Right-o, Jeeves“ I said, blushing quite a bit. I felt that I should warn him, lest he was planning on calling me some other things or was not properly dressed.  
„Er, well, I say“ I tried. „Look who’s all here, Jeeves!“

Jeeves now shimmered into the crowded living-room and quirked an eyebrow at the sight of the fellow Drones.  
„Good evening, gentlemen“ he said and once more I had to admire his nerves of steel.  
„Would you like some refreshments?“  
And with this he ankled off towards the kitchen. The other chaps turned to me again.  
„Bertie, old horse-face, I say! Did…did your man just call you „darling“?“ Bingo Little asked after a while.

„Ehrr“ was all I could manage to answer, but thankfully Jeeves returned just in this moment and saved me from starting to babble.  
Going round with a tray with b. and s.‘s on it, he said: „If you are referring to my earlier calling, sir, I can assure you that I was in fact looking for Mr Wooster’s new cat.“ He turned to me. „Have you by any chance seen “Darling” anywhere this afternoon, sir?“  
Thank Scott for the quick brain of my good man and splendiferous lover. I don’t know how I deserve such a genius.  
„Why, no Jeeves, she must be hiding somewhere again, that beast“ I said and took a glass from him with a wide smile.

—•—•

Later, when the other chaps had left and I was sitting on the chesterfield, I pulled Jeeves, who was still looking mortified and rueful, into my lap and gave him a smack on the cheek.

„I’m sorry, sir“ he mumbled into my neck.  
„Nonsense, Reg. It’s not your fault, I should have warned you earlier. And nothing of that sirring now, please. I like the other names better, you know, dear thing.“  
„All right, love“ my personal, wonderful, lovely gentleman said and kissed me.

 

 


End file.
